


fanboy

by neelrahae



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, most of this was written from 1am to 5am so .. judge but not too harshly, so much tension, stan yoozen, these mfs gay fr, yoosung has big puppy crush, zen is /convinced/ that yoosung's his fanboy or smth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neelrahae/pseuds/neelrahae
Summary: Yoosung stared at Zen’s back, unimpressed. His gym fanatic of a hyung was standing on his bed - two posters under his left arm, one in the other - so enthusiastically ready to plaster them on Yoosung’s wall.And frankly, Yoosung did not want that. The boy didn’t have a single clue about why Zen so badly wanted to do this for him. He was already confused when Zen cheerily gave little “nopes” and joked about how Yoosung did want to have Zen’s limited edition posters spread across his wall when he had so readily protested against the idea in the messenger chatroom. Yet apparently, to his hyung, Yoosung complimenting his looks and Yoosung going through Zen’s fan blog meant that the college boy was a fan.A fan.Of Zen.A.. fanboy. Of Zen. Impossible.
Relationships: Kim Yoosung & Zen | Ryu Hyun, Kim Yoosung/Zen | Ryu Hyun
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	fanboy

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooo so its like 5am and I'm like just SITTING here appreciating my own work bc man this idea has been revolving in my head since like.. yesterday afternoon. I HAD TO GET IT OUT. because its so fitting. and so characteristic of them,,
> 
> anywaysssssss enjoy
> 
> p.s. - ironically i listened to 'i wanna be your girlfriend' by girl in red while writing this - it seemed fitting to the uh.. amount of .. tension nd passion there is in this fic i guess, lmao

Yoosung stared at Zen’s back, unimpressed. His gym fanatic of a hyung was standing on his bed - two posters under his left arm, one in the other - so enthusiastically ready to plaster them on Yoosung’s wall.

And frankly, Yoosung did  _ not _ want that. The boy didn’t have a single clue about why Zen so badly wanted to do this for him. He was already confused when Zen cheerily gave little “nopes” and joked about how Yoosung  _ did _ want to have Zen’s limited edition posters spread across his wall when he had so readily protested against the idea in the messenger chatroom. Yet apparently, to his hyung, Yoosung complimenting his looks and Yoosung going through Zen’s fan blog meant that the college boy was a fan. 

A fan.

Of Zen.

A.. fanboy. Of Zen. Impossible. 

The blond boy gave a small snort as the silver haired man set down two posters and unrolled the one that was under his right arm. This was so weird, yet so  _ amusing  _ \- especially because Yoosung was prepared to remove them right after Zen would leave. He’d take pictures of them, and the flimsy material of the posters would already be carelessly creased in his hands. He’d send the pictures to Zen and take pure satisfaction in the dramatics the man was going to throw his way in reaction to his merchandise being so bluntly rejected by his best friend. 

Yoosung would feel bad, maybe. For a second. Or two. But this is what his hyung deserved, for tormenting him like this.

Because who the  _ hell  _ breaks into someone’s dorm to self-plaster pictures of themselves on their walls? No one but Zen, that’s for sure.

Still, Yoosung couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about this whole circumstance, just because.. Zen seemed so genuine about it, and the theory of this all being a tasteless prank that Zen had planned was slowly getting debunked - solely from the fact he’d  _ rushed _ his way to the dorm. To do this. 

“Mhm, so,” Zen muttered, focused. He turned his body so he was facing Yoosung, and he was looking down at him. His expression was so abnormally intense - it made Yoosung instinctively fold his arms and shrink into himself a bit. Just what was he planning?

When Zen had fully unrolled the poster in his hands, he stared at it for a few seconds, before throwing his head back and laughing delightedly. The slight panic in Yoosung’s chest spiked in reaction, and he cleared his throat nervously, clearly unprepared to deal with whatever teasing was coming his way. “Oh..!!” Was all Zen could breathe out in between his theatrical cackling, before turning it around for Yoosung to see, a slightly wolfish grin creeping onto his face. 

“What do you think, Soong-ah?” Said the taller man, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

The looming man’s eyes found their way to Yoosung’s face again, eagerly waiting for his reaction. 

And boy, did Yoosung react. 

His blond hair bounced wildly as he suddenly put his own foot over his bed to heave himself up on the bed fully, forcing Zen to take a few steps back on the mattress himself - before having the poster snatched from his hands. Yoosung’s expression had contorted into one of both flutter and shock: violet eyes wide, eyebrows comically stitched together, and a light flush finding its way to his cheeks. Yoosung could feel the heat on his own face and it irritated him even further. 

Because this had to be a joke... right?

His eyes scanned over the poster once. Twice. A few more times, before his lips tightened into a straight line.

It was a picture of Zen, wearing a black wig, which seemed to have a headband attached to it.. that seemed to resemble.. the ears of a wolf. There was a headset mic hovering over his mouth, curving from his left ear, where it was attached. A vest under what seemed to be a red and black denim jacket, with ropes tied into the shape of an X through the holes where the buttons would usually go. 

He had fine, dark eyeliner on - which accentuated his already sharp eyes even more. And he adorned the classic, stage Zen expression: shining red irises gazing into the camera, mouth curved into a confident smile, an eyebrow raised slightly - presenting as if he were flirting with the viewer. 

The picture was taken from the same stage Zen had sent a photo of in the chatroom earlier. The same costume in which Yoosung found him sexy.. and had actually  _ told _ him exactly that while his eyes were absentmindedly flitting from his phone screen to his monitor screen. 

And, yeah. Zen  _ is _ handsome, and Yoosung  _ was _ saying the truth.. but it’s still so strange. And humiliating. Because it was just a compliment. Friends always support each other - and maybe for Yoosung, it went beyond that - if he ever does appreciate Zen, a hint of envy and jealousy is always somewhere in his tone. 

Is that why..?

“Hyung...” he sputtered out, “This..  _ is _ a joke, right? Why would I want this on my wall?”

Zen was staring into his eyes with a mischievous sparkle to his own - he was taking pleasure in Yoosung’s reaction, and Yoosung’s mouth felt dry. He was used to overconfidence permeating through his hyung, but not this much. Not so outwardly in real life.

Before realizing it, the taller man’s fingers were threading into Yoosung’s - removing his grip from the poster and taking it into his own hands. His back was to Yoosung’s face again. 

...Was he not going to get an answer?

What the hell?

“Hyung!!” Was all Yoosung said before hearing the rasp sound of tape being torn across teeth. Zen had already whipped out a roll of tape and was busying himself by sticking pieces of it on the corners of the back of the poster. The only response the blonde boy got was a questioning and muffled, “Hmm?” and a slight tilt of a head looking back at him - eyes deceivingly innocent. The irritation within Yoosung was sizzling even stronger than it already was. 

And the small bubble in his mind that had ‘self-restraint’ scrawled on top of it popped - pushing him to scrunch his hands into the material of Zen’s leather jacket and shake him with as much force as he could. Which caused both of them to lose their balance on the bed, clumsily trying to find their footing on the squishy material of the mattress. 

“Zen! Hyung! Listen to me!! Just - stop for a second -” 

“..No?! Yoosung-ah, are you okay? You didn’t seem to have a problem with this a few minutes ago, so why are you protesting  _ now _ ?” Zen said, trying to sound exasperated - but the playfulness was still in his tone. So it didn’t sound like he was being serious. He knew Yoosung was flustered for good reason, then. 

Which led to Yoosung not withdrawing his hands. He gripped even tighter at the leather, a persistent frown on his face as he locked his gaze with Zen’s. The smaller boy knew he didn’t have to say anything; Zen wasn’t dumb, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“You’re acting like Seven hyung.” 

A mock gasp left Zen’s mouth, before he turned his back fully to Yoosung  _ again _ . Already swiftly and neatly sticking the top two corners of the poster on the wall. “What? You’re really going to compare me with  _ him _ ?” 

“Yes?! You’ve never gotten on my nerves this much, hyung - and for God’s sake, I can’t believe you’re still so set on getting your stupid post- ”

“Stupid poster?”

Yoosung groaned, whining out the next words while bouncing weakly on the bed, impatience rippling through his body. “I swear, if I had half the strength you have... I would’ve already kicked you out of the dorm.”

“Mhm, what a shame you can’t do that, huh?” Zen chuckled out. “Just wait a few more minutes for me, Yoosung. I don’t want to crease or rip any parts of the paper.” 

A soft sigh escaped the shorter boy’s lips, suddenly feeling very defeated. Zen was insistent on getting the poster up, and he seemed so unaffected by Yoosung’s frustration.. which was very abnormal of him. Not only was Zen just as hot-blooded and expressive as Yoosung, he was also the kind to jump onto any nonchalant or negative reaction to his career/passion and hang onto it with bitter pettiness for weeks. Yoosung loosened and then released his grip on the jacket, arms flopping to his side, gaze averting to anywhere but the silver haired man’s figure. Whatever. He’d wait, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do, at all. 

It took a good 15 to 20 seconds for Zen to complete his task - which included him patting and flattening it out so that it looked “absolutely flawless”- as he had called it when he was thumbing over wolf Zen’s face. Yoosung was absolutely ready to complain during those long seconds, because it was so awkward. The ambience went from loud and playful to.. weirdly tense. All Yoosung could hear was the light breathing of his hyung and the flap of paper, and it was unusual for the two to ever be like this in each other’s company.

None of his questions were answered, and here he was - back to staring at Zen’s back. On his bed. Both of them just.. standing there.

And that is when he decided to speak, vexation and scepticism seeping through this voice. “You do.. you  _ do  _ know I’m not one of your fans, right..?”

Zen then stepped to the side, letting Yoosung take a full view of the perfectly plastered poster. All it did was make him feel even more embarrassed, and he snapped his face to the side to look up at Zen, eyes silently begging him to explain what took over him and incentivized him to do this. 

The taller man’s eyes were locked to his, as well. Yoosung’s eyebrows furrowed together at his failure of making out why those red eyes seemed so.. enigmatic, at the time. Zen looked. Detached. Yet still, his lustrous eyes delivered emotion, as they always do. The perplexion Yoosung was feeling flared up along with his heartbeat - which was speeding up bit by bit.

And then Yoosung felt his bed sink as the man in front of him took a step forward.

“You know, Yoosung-ah, I don’t really think that’s true..?” 

..Huh? What? What would make Zen think otherwise? 

“W- Well hyung, me complimenting you does not make me a fan. I’m not one of your fanboys.. or whatever -”

The space between them was then completely closed as Zen took a bigger step and looked down at Yoosung from his height. The smaller boy’s eyes snapped down to Zen’s shirt, his shoulders squaring up out of habit. This was weird. The proximity was grating at his nerves and making him act impulsively and it was just  _ strange  _ and  _ confusing  _ and - 

Zen then leaned down slightly, bringing the both of them to eye level - causing Yoosung to inhale sharply. Red crawled up into his cheeks again, and his violet eyes were shining with a kind of anxiety Yoosung had never felt around Zen. He wanted to look anywhere else so that he wouldn’t be forced to make eye contact with the man in front of him but he felt strictly grounded in his feet, and a part of his mind commanded him to look up again. 

Zen was staring at him curiously, an eyebrow quirked upwards. “You also save my pictures, don’t you?” he asked. And he was right. Yoosung does save them - but it’s more so that he never deletes them whenever his phone automatically downloads every selfie sent his way. Sure, Yoosung does have an album full of his selfies, too, but it’s just because Zen’s features were so distinct and detectable by his phone that - 

“And you also have a profile on my fan-blog,” he exhales quietly, before bringing up a hand to weave into Yoosung’s hair, stroking at it and.. even caressing it softly. His thumb brushed at the hair that had settled messily on his forehead - sweeping it to the side gently. 

At this point, the only thought circulating through Yoosung’s mind was: what the fuck.

The smaller boy’s heartbeat rate was straight through the roof now, and he could even hear the heavy thumping in his own ears. Suddenly, he felt so,  _ so _ acutely aware of his surroundings. Of Zen. And his hand on his head, feeling warm and abnormally heavy on him. And of how pretty Zen’s features were - a soft smile on his face, eyes glowing with what seemed to be a mix of pride and.. other.. kinds of sentiment. He was so close, that Yoosung couldn’t be bothered to answer, but just.. observe. 

After all, he probably wouldn’t get this kind of opportunity again.

Zen’s smile had turned into a small smirk, his eyes crinkling up from the mirth he was feeling by seeing Yoosung look so awfully discomposed. “I’ve also seen the things you’ve said in the chatroom - especially when I’m never really  _ there _ , mind you - you’ve said that I’m perfect, and you’ve also whined so much about how it’s so hard to find flaws in me.” Yoosung felt obligated to at least respond to that, to weakly protest by saying that it wasn’t out of admiration (although it, in truth, was exactly that) but jealousy. That any guy would feel jealous of Zen. But Zen didn’t give him the chance to respond, and before he could let out a word, the taller male’s face came even closer to his.

Yoosung could feel his breath on his lips, although Zen had pulled back just a little, to keep a little bit of distance between them.. because their noses were so close to touching, too. And. And - and it was just - so overwhelming yet so  _ intoxicating _ in a way that Yoosung liked - and he couldn’t pull himself away. Didn’t want to, either. His mouth was left agape in both awe and in daze. 

“No friend would say that, you know. At least, not any normal one.” Zen was so bound in continuing his short speech, and Yoosung didn’t mind. Zen’s voice felt heavier and even more profound in his room - deep yet breathy, treading between the lines of affection and smugness. It was so superbly Zen in spirit and the blond boy was drinking it in, was drinking in every word even though his mind was throwing questions at him and asking why he was suddenly so pliant under Zen’s presence. 

“Yoosung?” 

At the call of his name, Yoosung snapped out of his mid-daze, and he squeaked out a small, “Huh?”, eyes widening again. 

“You kind of do act like you’re one of my few fanboys. And that’s not bad - I don’t think I’d have any other guy supporting my back like you do.” 

Yoosung did not know why his face softened at that, and why that brought contentment to his heart, but it did, and he wasn’t going to question it. 

“So I know you won’t dislike it, will you? ..Having my poster on your wall, I mean,” Zen muttered to him, his face just as soft with endearment as well. Yoosung didn’t trust himself with his words in that moment, and gulped lightly - the feeling unpleasurable given how dry his throat was - before shaking his head, hoping that would reassure Zen and be an eligible response for him. 

Zen broke out into an even wider smile at that, before petting Yoosung one last time and withdrawing his hand. He leaned back - much to Yoosung’s perplexion - stepped back, and his eyes were no longer narrowed. “Alright then, since we have  _ that _ cleared up..” He said brightly, turning his face to look at the rest of the posters laying on the edge of the bed, at risk of rolling off. 

“You can keep these, and let me know if you’re ever planning to put them up.”

“Huh?” Yoosung breathed out again, slowly floating out of his mini haze. 

“Exactly what I said! Anyways, it’s getting a bit late-” Zen took a quick glance at the watch latched onto his wrist, eyes widening in surprise. Yoosung’s gaze was still fixed onto Zen’s expression - taking note of the slight flush in those cheekbones, and in the sweat on Zen’s forehead that had made his fringe stick onto the skin there. He was - he was also - affected..?

And then Zen was off the bed, and had already walked to the front of the door, wearing his boots while muttering nervously about how he’d extended past his practice hours- and how he also needed to work out- and whatever. Whatever. Yoosung wasn’t listening, he felt lost. Why was Zen leaving so suddenly? 

“..Hyung..?”

“Yoosung-ah, s- sorry, seriously. I need to get going.”

And then Zen  _ was _ gone. The sound of the door clicking and the sudden lack of Zen in the room fully brought Yoosung out of whatever force was keeping him in his place. 

So much sweat had formed on Yoosung’s chest and had his shirt sticking to it, and Yoosung pulled at it, before letting out a big,  _ big _ exhale and letting out all of the air that he didn’t even know was trapped in his lungs. His mind was racing, his heart was racing too again but not out of whatever he felt when Zen - did what he did - but out of pure nervousness. Yoosung gasped, and let out shuddery breaths again and again and again; hand clamping at his shirt tightly. He didn’t know how to feel.

How was he supposed to feel? Everything that just happened a few minutes ago was absolutely fucking unreal and Yoosung couldn’t wrap his head around it. He could still feel the warmth of Zen’s fingers in his hair and could still vividly imagine his hot breath on his lips, and  _ oh _ , Yoosung’s head was spiralling. 

He needed to get a glass of water, his throat felt like sandpaper. But the college boy couldn’t muster the energy to do that, and plopped onto his bed in surrender to the jittery feeling taking over him. He reached out for his plushie with shaky fingers, and gripped onto it tightly before pulling it towards his chest so he could pacify himself. His body felt warm from the tip of his toes to his ears, and questions were again forming in his head.

Why did Yoosung so badly want Zen to continue? Why’d his mind go, “oh, this is such a rare opportunity”? Why  _ did  _ Zen bring himself so close and point out every single time Yoosung has appreciated him - and - why did his hyung calling Yoosung his  _ fanboy  _ make his heart vibrate with satisfaction and euphoria? 

The answer seemed to be crystallizing out of the murky guesses he’d come up with - and - yeah. Yeah. This was a crush, alright.

Yoosung was absolutely whipped, head over heels, for Zen. 

He could’ve deleted Zen’s selfies. He could have lived without searching for any trolls or haters swimming around in his blog’s forums. He definitely did fawn over him in the chatroom, though. And the others - the others probably  _ knew _ . Leaving him to be the only oblivious one. Oh, how stupid he was. 

But also.. Zen.. Zen was, making advances at him, no? Zen wasn’t the kind to play with anybody’s feelings - and sure he was flirty - flirted with cute girls, complimented them, got into their space when they made it so clear that they liked it, and - 

Fuck, was Zen  _ flirting  _ with him?! 

Yoosung let out a loud, high pitched groan into his plushie, trying to muffle himself. It was unfair of Zen to just leave like that, because Yoosung couldn’t help but think that Zen was purposefully confusing or flustering him to seek some kind of answer. He wanted an answer, too, though. 

And he was already missing Zen’s presence. Badly. Half of him felt relieved that he could freak out as much as he wanted now that Zen wasn’t there, but the other half was craving. Wanting. Desiring. Yoosung sighed deeply, rubbing his fingers into his face, feeling so tired yet still so restless. He tilted his head upwards to snatch a glance at the poster, and bit his lip. 

..He didn’t feel like removing it anymore.

Of course he didn’t. 

Reaching out for his phone, he logged into it, staring at the digits on the top right of the screen.  _ 8:52pm _ . Alright, maybe it was a bit late. But he’d stay up, even if fatigue would overtake his body. He’d wait till whatever time he needed to - until Zen was free.

And he would ask him. Maybe. If he had the confidence to, about all of this. He’d punch in the digits of his number and call him, and ask. 

But for now, all he could do was whine into his stupid froggie plushie and think back on everything that happened. The high the situation had given him hadn’t died out yet.. and Yoosung was going to indulge in it, for a while. He could still clearly remember Zen’s features, his face so close to his, and his words. That he’d rather have Yoosung support him than anyone else.

Yoosung found himself smiling, softly. Maybe he didn't have a reason to panic so badly - maybe this was - maybe this was good. Maybe this could end well. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed it!! lemme know if u diddddd,, and i always appreciate any kind of criticism. 
> 
> also my ass will NOT be writing until im done w my exam which is on thursday .... but ofc im looking forward to writing more !!


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